


The Voice Inside Your Head

by plinys



Series: ABC Fic Challenge [12]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aphasia, M/M, Mind Link, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 19:10:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4071334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We should do it – for science. I mean when are we – when is anybody, going to get a chance – we can’t miss this one, right?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Voice Inside Your Head

**Author's Note:**

> I got a prompt from an anon over on tumblr for FitzMack mind link, and so I wrote this, then decided it worked for my L week of my abc fic challenge, so the word for this week is "link".
> 
> Unbeta'd cause I so rarely write smut that I feel bad asking my lovely beta's to read these dirty things.

It’s weird having somebody else inside in his mind.

For once there seems to be this sense of order, a comforting presence wrapped around him in the form of Mack’s mind

Ever since his accident it’s been a bit of a clutter in there. Random thoughts have a habit of flickering through at wrong moments, like that time they were in the middle of picking up a dead body and all Fitz could think about was how big Mack’s hands were and how he wouldn’t mind them holding him down and-

“You’re telling me we could have been doing this since _then_ ,” Mack’s voice cuts off his thoughts, and Fitz colors at once.

He’d forgotten about the mindlink again, which meant Mack had probably seen that memory. The thought would have been more embarrassing had they not been together these past few months.

He looks up then to see Mack’s face, the look in his eyes is dark and needy, and the apology Fitz has prepared dies on his lips, “Probably earlier - if I’m being honest.”

“You’re killing me here, Turbo.”

This time he does say, “sorry,” but it’s half-hearted and just a bit cheeky, and it gets that wonderful grin out of Mack.

“No you’re not.”

He’s not, and they both know it.

“You know – there’s this, we could – they can’t do anything till the tests finish,” Fitz stammers, though the sentence, hating his tongue for failing him, but perhaps he didn’t need his words after all. He closes his eyes for a second, knowing rationally it doesn’t make any difference, before pulling the image of the night before to the front of his memory. The blowjob in the backroom, and then Fitz on his hands and knees while Mack had-

“You’re insatiable,” Mack tells him, not for the first time nor probably the last time, “you know that, right?”

Fitz makes a vague hum of agreement, before he looks up to meet Mack’s eyes, “we should do it – for science. I mean when are we – when is anybody, going to get a chance – we can’t miss this one, right?”

Mack doesn’t answer with his words, but there’s this feeling of need and approval that washes over Fitz’s mind before he’s being crowded back against the wall. They kiss like they always do, hot and heavy, intense enough that Fitz’s legs feel weak. Sensing this through their mental link, Mack moves easily enough, changing the grip so he can hoist Fitz up against the wall, Fitz’s legs coming around Mack’s waist to hold him in place.

He grinds down in time with the kissing, not a soft pace like they might have in another circumstance, but rough and hard, and Mack responds in kind, moaning into the kiss.

Fitz manages to think the word _bed_ and then next thing he knows he’s being lowered onto Mack’s far too large bed with ease.

“Fuck me,” he says, because these words he has to say out loud.

“I was actually thinking of something else,” Mack replies with a grin, “though we can do that after.”

“What were you-“ Fitz starts, but falls silent as Mack’s fingers tug at the zipper of his jeans, and images fill his mind from Mack’s end.

He’s never really wondered what he looked like from that angle, but now he knows far too well.

“Oh,” Fitz says, swallowing hard, and Mack kneeling between his legs looks up for a moment.

“If you want me to stop, I can?”

“Please don’t,” he says quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly.

 Though as his face heats up in embarrassment, the feeling is combated by a return feeling through the mindlink of want just as strong and pleasure. It’s an intoxicating feeling.

A feeling that increases where he feels the ghost of a breath against the head of his cock.

“Let me feel it,” Mack says, before his lips close around him, and Fitz does his best to hold nothing back.

Letting every sensation, from the wet heat around him, to the hands that come up to stroke him with just the right hint of roughness, transmit over their mindlink. When a moan of pleasure fills the room, he can barely believe that it comes from his own lips, but it’s echoed a second later by a moan around his cock.

They’ve always been a perfect fit in bed, Mack always knowing just the right way to pleasure him even when Fitz’s words fail, but this time words don’t matter, because Mack knows exactly what he wants. Each twist of his hand, or swallow of his throat is carefully instructed by Fitz’s mind and followed by Mack.

It’s all a bit too much and too soon, and he wants to tell Mack that he’s about to come, but the words are trapped in his throat.

Not that it matters, because the mindlink gives his warning for him, and Mack’s reply a pure pleasure, his low voice rumbling in the back of Fitz’s mind, even though his mouth is occupied _come for me_.

And so he does.

It’s better than any of the times before, because in that mix of his personal high, there’s a feeling of warmth and comfort that spreads through him. He would have blacked out were it not for that presence in the back of his mind, grounding him to this earth and holding him steady.

Coming down from his orgasm, Fitz still feels tightly wound and ready to lose himself again, it takes a second for him to realize that _that_ feeling does not belong to him, but rather to the man settled between his thighs staring up at him with a look of wonder and amazement.

“How was that,” Mack asks.

“That was –“ and there’s not even a right word to describe it, so he closes his eyes and lets the feelings of pure pleasure transmit over their link.

The feeling is met with a pleasurable one in return. As well as one that reminds him that as much as Fitz would like to bask in his personal pleasure, it wouldn’t be right to let his partner remain unsatisfied.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Mack says, reading his mind.

“Trust me,” Fitz says, “I want to.”

The voice in the back of his head is soft, as he replies, _I always do_.


End file.
